


Just A Little Feedback

by ergophobia



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:21:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28702089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ergophobia/pseuds/ergophobia
Summary: Imira gives Varric a little friendly critique when it comes to writing romance scenes.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Varric Tethras, Female Lavellan/Varric Tethras
Kudos: 20





	Just A Little Feedback

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small standalone prompt fill, set early on in their relationship before either of them really come to terms about their feelings for one another.

“Do you really enjoy that stuff?” Varric asked, glancing up from his writing. Imira was curled up in her corner of the tent, enraptured in the latest chapter of an infamously saccharine romance series. He knew she had finished it already, twice now, in the week since she’d picked it up when they passed through Jader. 

“Is that judgement I sense in your voice?” Imira countered without looking up, thumbing over another page. “I thought you were writing a romance series.”

“I’m not judging,” he said, frowning at the parchment in his lap. He’d spent the last hour struggling with his own writing, trying to fumble his way through a particularly troublesome passage for the next update of Swords & Shields. Even with the world on fire, his editor still expected him to hit his deadlines. “You just don’t strike me as much of a romantic. Especially not for those Orlesian court dramas.”

“The setting isn’t as important,” she said. “As long as the passion’s there-“

“Ah, so you’re reading for the sex scenes,” he teased.

“No!” Imira protested, but laughed even as she tried to hide the blush on her cheeks behind the pages of her book. It always felt like a small triumph when he managed to fluster her. She always seemed to do so to him far too easily. “Well, yes, those can be fun, but it’s all the little gestures and the build up and the lingering…” she trailed off with a small sigh. “In this chapter the duke’s rival suitor has caught all of Lady Emmaline’s attentions, so the duke is trying his best to move on, but he can’t stop thinking about her laugh or the way her hair falls over her shoulder. And then at the Midsummer Ball, they find themselves standing next to each other during a conversation with the Earl of Moncroix and she brushes her hand against his and he can’t tell if it was merely an accident but-“

“Ok, I get it,” Varric cut her off. He’d already been subjected to listening to her and Cassandra gush over the duke spending twenty pages yearning over Emmaline’s bare wrist or something. 

“Do you?” Imira said, with that awful knowing smile of hers, the one she always brought out when she was about to read him like an Antivan fortune teller. “Because you’ve been trying to write that same scene with Knight-Captain Viola saying goodbye to Brennic for the past week.” They both glanced down to the small pile of half-crumpled abandoned parchment next to him, and he realized with horror that it was not impossible for her to read a few snippets from where she was sitting. He hastily shoved the abandoned pages into his pack.

“It’s not as easy to write as it is to read,” he told her, scowling accusingly. 

“If you need some feedback-“

“I don’t,” Varric said. It came out harsher than he intended, and he felt a twinge of guilt when Imira’s face fell just a little. “Sorry, Prim, I just meant- Look. You’ve got bigger things to worry about.” Nevermind his own embarrassment over sharing his rough drafts with her. Loathe as he was to admit it, it did hurt his pride just the smallest bit that she was apparently the only person in Haven who hadn’t even glanced at The Tale of the Champion. He didn’t need her first exposure to his work being some shitty love scene.

“Maybe I don’t want to worry about big things for a bit,” she said with a smile, leaning over to attempt to peer at his writing. He was irritated when he found himself admiring how her long, raven hair fell over her shoulder when she did so, rippling down like a waterfall at midnight. Stupid, really. It was just hair. 

“It’s really bad,” he warned her, looking away. She slid across the tent so she was sitting next to him, her skirts brushing up against his thigh.

“I would still very much like to read it,” she said sweetly. “I’m sure it’s much better than you think it is.” She was trying to charm him, and worst of all, it was working.

“... Fine,” he said, sliding the pages to her. He could feel his ears turning red. 

“Yes!” she said triumphantly, snatching them away to begin reading. Varric watched her nervously, trying to guess where she might be based on her expression. He usually tried to avoid being around people when they read his work. It was nerve-wracking. 

“Hmm, I can see where you’re stuck,” she said after a long few minutes. “It’s not bad at all,” she added quickly, relieving a bit of the tightness that had appeared in his chest. “Just needs a little bit more gravitas at the end. And I don’t think they should kiss.”

“What? That’s the whole point of the book,” Varric scoffed. “They’ve spent the last twenty chapters fending off sexual tension.”

“Yes, so why conclude it here?” Imira argued. 

“Because it’s the end of the book. And Viola doesn’t even know if she’ll see him again,” he said. 

“Hear me out,” she said, sliding closer so she could point out a passage to him. “See, right here it says ‘She knew, now more than ever, there would be no happy ending for them. It would be better to save him the heartache.’ But then she goes right ahead and kisses him anyway. But, alright, look-“

Varric was caught suddenly off guard as Imira turned to him and pulled his face close to her’s, barely a breath between them. Her hand rested gently on his cheek, he could pull away if he really wanted to, but he didn’t. “Imira…” his voice wavered.

“Imagine I’ve just been framed for murder,” she said in a soft voice. “And since I believe in the power of truth and justice, I decide to stand trial to defend myself and reveal the Earl’s true killer.” Varric felt a sense of disappointment as he realized they were still talking about his book. “But I know that the system is a broken one, and I am gambling with my life. And this may be the last time we have a moment together-“

“So you’d kiss me,” Varric said, trying to stay grounded in his own reality. He could smell the lavender oil Imira brushed into her hair every morning. Sometimes he caught himself thinking about how soft it looked, how nice it would feel to run his fingers through it. He caught himself thinking about that now, and tried to stop. 

“Would I?” Imira asked. “Or would I come so close…” She closed her eyes as she leaned forward, and he could feel her breath on his lips. He waited, his chest heavy, and was surprised by the disappointment he felt when she pulled away. Her fingers trailed across his jaw as she let him go. “And then decide against it,” she said, settling back to sit at a respectable distance. “Lest I give in to a love that I know is doomed.” 

“Alright,” he said slowly, recovering from his near kiss. It was hard not to think what a real one from her would be like. “I see your point. Leave them wanting more, huh?” 

“Precisely,” she said, settling back into her original seat. It was a very small tent, but the distance between them felt quite large now. Imira picked up her book and went back to reading, and Varric tried his hardest to concentrate on his writing. 

“Imira,” he said, looking up after a very long while.

“Mm?”

“You weren’t… actually going to kiss me just then, were you?” he asked her. Thank the Maker she didn’t glance up from her book then. It was rare for him to get flustered over a pretty face, but well, she had been very close. 

“I was just teasing,” Imira assured him, giving him a mischievous smile. “Why, did it work?”

“Tch, of course not,” he said, hiding behind his writing. She wasn’t exactly his type, charming as she was. And then there was the whole Herald of Andraste chosen one bullshit. Definitely not something he needed to get mixed up in any further than he was. Besides, a Dalish soon-to-be-Keeper and a member of the Merchant’s Guild…? “Just give me a heads up before you pull something like that again,” he warned her.

“Oh, would you like me to?” she asked, giggling when he scowled at her. “Perhaps you could use some feedback on one of your more intimate scenes-“

“I’m ignoring you.” Varric turned back to his pen, and tried his best not to entertain the idea.


End file.
